Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Morocco and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Anthony Braxton to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
Erykah Badu,
Charles Mingus,
Skaos,
Make Up,
D'Angelo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Suburban Knight,
Niagra,
Porter Ricks,
The Real Kids,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Laurel Aitken,
Bluetip,
Excepter,
Depeche Mode,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Electric Prunes,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Last Poets,
Country Teasers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Music Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
Mr. Review,
Mars,
Camouflage,
The Velvet Underground,
a-ha,
Bauhaus,
Stetsasonic,
Roxette,
Black Flag,
John Cale,
Erasure,
Gong,
Howard Jones,
The Mummies,
MC5,
The Searchers,
Popol Vuh,
Moby Grape,
the Swans,
The Standells,
Johnny Clarke,
Faraquet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Morten Harket,
Vainqueur,
Eddi Front,
Juan Atkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wasted Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
B.T. Express,
Camberwell Now,
Flash Fearless,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pere Ubu,
Organ,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.